


the advantage of a silver spoon

by cracklesnaple



Series: mcyt shorts [5]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Death, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Gen, I honestly have no idea what to tag this, Killing, Time Travel, Web Series: Tales from the SMP, nobody's gonna see it anyways lmao, the egg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29292699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cracklesnaple/pseuds/cracklesnaple
Summary: “Well,” Billiam drawls, crossing his arms over his chest. “It would seem we have to plan another party.” he glanced over at his servant, who just nodded before turning his gaze back to the egg. Its hunger is never ending, but that does not bother Billiam. There will always be a surplus of poor people to spare.
Relationships: None
Series: mcyt shorts [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094585
Comments: 8
Kudos: 161





	the advantage of a silver spoon

**Author's Note:**

> if capitalism bad, why have good fashion???? (specifically only for Billiam lol)

The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. It permeates the grounds of his small mansion, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue and he longs for more. The night was a good one, full of sheep lining up for their slaughter and the delicious taste of terror. Billiam’s mansion sits still now, the hunger beneath the mansion assuaged for now but the peace grates on his nerves.

He has never been one for idle chatter or sitting still, much preferring to keep his hands busy. Not with meaningless peasant work like those of his servants, but things that really matter. Right now, his fingers run over a grand piano so black it blends in with the shadows of the ballroom. There is little light in the room, just a few candles flicker with the wind now, but Billiam does not need to see the keys to play this song.

It’s a haunting melody, one that tells the tales of those long gone. A tale of betrayal and suspense. The tension rises within him, his soul responding to the familiar music that flows from his fingertips. Billiam moves with the music, leans in as it decrescendos and falls backwards when it hits the top of its cords.

Black lace shifts on his wrist, adding another level to the music as red drips from it onto ivory pale keys. The melody spills from the ballroom, chasing every nook and cranny as it whispers its secrets to the writhing shadows.

There are footsteps. However quiet they may be, Billiam knows all the sounds of his estate and the treads of this one is more familiar than most. He spares a glance when his butler arrives in the ballroom, standing near the grand entrance, head bowed in perfect submission. His red and green horns glow faintly in the darkened room as Billiam waves him in, leaving the melody only for a second.

He tips his head, allowing the servant to speak in short words.

“It is done,” his butler tells him. The evidence has been wiped away, the boy now wears a new suit, pressed and clean with no trace of the blood that had lined it from before. Toxic purple eyes, more noticeable now that he had gotten rid of that hideous mask, focus on the floor at their feet instead of resting on Billiam himself.

“Good.” The word is short and clipped, the man not in the mood to ruin the melancholic atmosphere he has created. “Is it satisfied?”

“For now.”

When Billiam doesn’t say anything, the butler moves to stand off the side, knowing the man did not like when he got too close. The melody changes to one of promise and hope, but only for those who are willing to get their hand bloodied. Under every comforting high note hides a dagger poised to strike a heart. The dagger always gets what he wants, one way or another.

A soft glow illuminates his fingers, his eyes lighting up to a familiar red as he is summoned. Normally, he would protest a summons. He is Sir Billiam, the richest in the lands and he bows to no one. Now, that fact has been changed slightly. Now, he has a bigger calling than scamming people and laughing at the weak.

A red dressing gown, thrown over his masquerade clothes once the last headache had been dealt with, sweeps over the floor in a gentle hush. Billiam closes the lid of the piano, the wood meets each other with a violent hush that reverberates around the mansion.

He sends a small smirk to his butler as he sweeps past him, their eyes meeting only for the briefest of seconds before purple returns to the floor. Billiam’s footsteps are quieted against the soft red carpet, the heels of his shoes sink gently into the fabric.

Their shoes clack in tandem once they reach the edge of the room, carpet falling away to polished stone. The painting covering the entrance to their hidden room has been moved away, likely so his butler could dispose of the inconvenient body in there. While Billiam can always feel the egg’s presence within his lands, the feeling is more potent here, just steps away from seeing it in all its glory.

A steady heartbeat worms its way beside his own, resting in his chest. It whispers at him, speaking of hunger and bloodlust that Billiam understands. He ducks into the room, a pulsing red glow illuminates the vines and stone. The dim lights flicker in and out before cutting out completely, leaving the room bathed in shadow except for the faint glow coming off his butler and the pulsating light of the egg.

“Well,” Billiam drawls, crossing his arms over his chest. “It would seem we have to plan another party.” he glanced over at his servant, who just nodded before turning his gaze back to the egg. Its hunger is never ending, but that does not bother Billiam. There will always be a surplus of poor people to spare. In the back of his mind, Billiam longs to go back to his piano, but oh well.

For now, they have another party to plan and the egg demands blood. Who is he to deny the egg?

**Author's Note:**

> Gasp! Another fic that's not Tommy-centric! It won't happen again probs. I wrote this in a day because I love the Masquerade episode of Tales and I love Billiam and Ranbutler so much. Hope you enjoyed this short fic. Here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/cracklesnapple1) if you want it.
> 
> Love y'all! Have a great day and stay safe! <3


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